


Fortunate are the Destitute

by marshv



Series: Like a Phoenix [1]
Category: Titanic (1997)
Genre: Class Issues, Edwardian Period, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Exploitation, F/M, Family Drama, Financial Issues, Survivor Guilt, White Collar Crime, Young Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-02-11 13:38:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12936423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marshv/pseuds/marshv
Summary: Things wouldn't be easy, she knew that. They both did. But they were alive. Safe. By some miracle, they were still curled in each other's arms.And as long as they were together, they would be ok. That's what they told themselves.





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason I'm writing fic about a 20-year-old mainstream romantic historical drama whose target audience doesn't write or read fanfiction. I just really love this movie and didn't find any long dramatic multi-chapter fics for it.

The goosebumps made her skin feel so tight, Rose feared it would peel right off her body.

After the ship sank, there were hundreds of flailing figures left bobbing in the water. Hundreds of souls whose screams cut through the night, conveying every possible human emotion of fear, anguish, and terror. A sound neither of them would ever forget. 

But less than an hour after _Titanic_ disappeared, the ocean quieted, the survivors dropping one by one. And only a single, sole lifeboat returned to the scene. 

Just one.

The only reason Rose knew Jack was alive—the only reason she was so frantic, so desperate to save him—was the dying beat of his heart. She felt it, barely there, pumping just under his jaw while his frozen hand held hers. No other signs of life were present.

She splashed the icy water with one arm in a bid to get the lifeboat’s attention. It took her begging, voice hoarse and cracking, choking on her words, to convince them to bring Jack too; They didn't believe her. There was no way he was alive, they said, she was just hysterical, they said. 

But when his eyelids fluttered, and the officer felt his pulse, they relented, and hauled him aboard.

He was so far gone, so close to death, unmoving, that his condition remained at a standstill even as she huddled around him, keeping him warm. She held out hope, but there were others brought on board, in better health, who passed away nonetheless during the early hours of the morning. 

She panicked again.

Jack was bundled from head to toe, lips still dark, and his face pale. Rose did whatever she could, breathing hot onto his freezing cheeks and kissing him, little touches of lips peppered all over his face, whispering to him, willing him to survive.

At some point, he started shivering again. After being still for so long, Rose didn't notice at first. It was only when he let out a soft groan, quiet and born of confusion, that she lifted her head from its resting place to look into his eyes.

They were closed. And she kissed along his rosy nose and the soft curve of his jaw, tears dripping down one of her cheeks.

It wasn't until several hours later that she sat up, his head in her lap, and stroked his hair, her own head covered by a thin wool blanket.

Invisible weight lifted from her shoulders, and she felt she could finally relax. But in the corner of her vision—out of nowhere, and by mere inexplicable chance—she caught sight of him. Of Cal.

With her head down and Jack’s face covered, she followed her ex-fiancé’s movements. Stealthy. Breathing slow. Her hands stopped their strokes, body as rigid as it was in the water. She still had his jacket on and pulled the blanket around her so it hid the garment from view. Waiting for him to leave, praying, the man’s footsteps closed in behind her, and Rose held her breath.

But to her overwhelming alleviation, Cal moved on. And she shivered—like he was still there, watching.

Rose exhaled, trembling as she did so, lungs burning as they contracted. It was identical to her show of relief when she'd axed through the handcuffs, freeing Jack from his prison below deck as the water rose to their waists.

She gritted her teeth at the memory—the reality of what almost happened. She was so close to losing him. If she hadn't saved him, he’d be lost.

Gone. He'd be gone.

His lungs would have filled with water, his body floating, still chained to the pipe under miles and miles of an unforgiving sea.

There was no way to stop the urge to cry. She leaned down to kiss all over him again, weeping. Grieving over something that hadn't even happened. Hands clutched at every inch of him, feeling desolation over the thought of almost losing him.

Grabbing at him, his face, his neck, his hair, she sent salty tears onto him, rubbing her face against his jaw, leaving a trail of wet kisses from his ear to his chin.

“I love you, Jack,” she managed to get out, voice still a mess. “I love you.”

It was hardly even loud enough to be considered a breath, let alone actual words. The syllables were broken, long pauses between them. Rose didn't even hear them. But she felt them. The movement of lips against her skin, slowly warming in the sun— was unmistakable.

“Love you… Rose.”

And she smiled painfully, burying her face into his neck again, her heart aflutter.

-

Three days later, the Statue of Liberty made her grand appearance, coming up the side of the _Carpathia_ as they began to dock. The sight of her, lighting the way, had Rose staring.

Jack hadn't stopped shivering, she worried he'd never stop. But he remained in her lap, her hand threading through his sea salted hair, untangling it gently while she remained entranced.

It was an unconscious movement, the way her free hand went to Cal's jacket. It was still cold on the deck of the ship, and her hands were ice. Cal's coat was some expensive, overly-extravagant fur lined piece of clothing. Thick and heavy, it saved her from the majority of the chilly weather. Jack needed it more than she did, but he refused to take it several times, much to her frustration.

However, in the depths of the fabric, down in the deepest crevices, she felt a string of metal. A jewelry chain. A necklace.

Her eyes went wide. The sensation of it against her palm burned like a brand. It was terrifying, and shocked her enough that her mouth hung open, fingers squeezing around the object with a painful grip. She peeked down slowly, hardly moving her head, and lifted the piece just enough that she could see it beneath the edge of the pocket.

That explained why Cal was looking for her.

“Can I have your names please, miss?”

Rose stuttered at the sudden question, shoving the diamond back into its place, snapping out of it. It took her a second for the voice to even register. She blinked eventually, forgetting about the necklace and trying to focus on the official-looking figure standing before her. 

His eyes were round and kind. But his face was sunk into a frown, like he'd been existing in a state of perpetual shock for god knows how long. Regardless, he was patient, and he looked to Rose for an answer to his question, her own eyes searching his face and getting caught off guard by the plural in his statement.

Her thumb ran over the swell of Jack’s bottom lip. He was shaking and silent, but she gained great comfort, reassurance, from the feel of his warm breath ghosting over her fingertips.

The officer wanted names.

Her and Jack.

Both of them.

He'd asked her for both of them.

The implications of the phrasing didn't go unnoticed. And she closed her eyes briefly to make sure she wasn't dreaming. It made her heart swell, pounding, hammering in a manner she had gradually grown accustomed to since the day they first met.

They hadn't left each other's side since they'd been rescued. The realization, what to do, came without any train of thought preceding it. And she knew what to say. What name to give him. It required no thinking at all. Even in her semi-dazed state.

“Dawson,” Rose recited clear and sure. “Jack and Rose Dawson.” Her voice lacked all the hoarseness from before, all the pain, and now gave off an air of elegance. She wondered if she had even sounded different in the first place. Or if it was simply her stunned melancholy, her numbness, that had given every sound, every voice, an overlay of distortion.

The official uttered a thank you and walked away. After she gave their names, Rose felt Jack’s lips pull into a smile, the tickle of movement right against the skin of her palm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the tag "Edwardian Era" isn't entirely correct since they're in the United States and not Europe and the Edwardian Era ended in 1910, but I feel like it's close enough and more people will know what sort of aesthetic I'm getting at if I say "Edwardian Era" than if I said "Progressive Era" (which I think is the more accurate term for this particular setting)


	2. Beginning Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First things first, find a place to live. Rose voices her concerns and Jack tries his best.

Numbness. Nothing.

In their throats was a great hollow of anguish, of shock, that made it hard to speak. Difficult to look beyond the pictures playing over and over in their heads. The events, the memories, and the feelings of the past week haunted them, empowered them, and tainted their awareness with fog.

The entire world was a fog.

All of those in steerage were subject to a health inspection. No exceptions. And rather than fight it, they obliged without a word. With great care, Rose helped Jack to his feet, leading him off the boat and into the winding lines of people.

The physicians at Ellis Island took their time checking everyone over, holding out their hands to assist the weak and injured, smiling. Though very seldom did they receive a smile in return. The crew members on _Carpathia_ let Jack keep the blanket. None of them had expected him to make it, and were taken aback, baffled when he survived.

Rose however, return hers, and walked the inspection lines with her head down. Fearful, even though she knew she would be unknown amongst these people.

They allowed her and Jack to stay together. Most of them had kept an eye on the two since their arrival. A fact Rose was wary of, and she shucked her coat further up her neck in an attempt to hide. Someone was bound to recognize them. Their attempts to mingle amongst the steerage passengers was fruitless when Rose’s piles of red curls stood out as badly as they did.

She kept her eyes on Jack, on his eyes, on his smile that he'd crack, the one that never failed to pull a smile from her as well. He moved slowly. Back hunched. But the gleam had returned to him. Eyes sparkling with life that had been so dull just days earlier. He'd awoken an ocean of emotions in her, a storm of feelings that she'd never felt. And she had yet to become accustomed to the beat that her heart infallibly skipped, without fail, whenever he winked at her. Or looked at her. Or touched her.

Ever attentive, he must have noticed her apprehension. How she hid under her jacket. Because one of his arms came out, freed from its woolen cocoon, to wrap around her shoulder. He pulled her in close, and she let him. Melting against him with her eyelids falling shut, breathing in the smell of his body and nosing under his jaw.

“You okay?” he mumbled against the shell of her ear. Breath hot, heating her chilly skin, she shuddered at his closeness.

“I’m nervous,” she whispered and told him the truth. “What if someone recognizes me? Or you. Both of us.”

“What's gonna happen if they do?” he asked.

She didn't know how to answer him, because she didn't know what they would do. But a sinking sensation in her heart told her, warned her, that Cal and her mother wouldn't give up so easily. And she'd rather avoid running into them, especially so soon after the disaster.

When she didn't respond and her expression remained distraught, he kissed her ear. A long, lasting touch, it left a patch of her skin damp and warm.

“They can't get to you, ok?” he whispered to her temple. “You've made your own choice. They don’t get to decide anymore.”

“Jack you don't understand,” Rose whimpered, thinking of the necklace, and her volume became higher, more frightened. “Cal knows everyone. And so many of them know me. I’m sure he and mother are spreading lies about you right now. They'll find us.”

“Shhh listen,” he kissed her ear again. “We’re gonna get out of here. We’ll find somewhere. They got nothin’ on me. You're safe, Rose.”

Strong words. Jack’s words. The same tone he always used when he was encouraging her. He held her head between his hands and kissed her forehead, that same slow motion he used before. Rose still felt her heart beating too fast, fearful, but also pumping blood to her cheeks at the touch of his lips.

Jack ran a thumb over her cheek, smiling at her flush, then kissed her nose.

“But, what about money?” she trembled through his kiss.

“I told you, remember? I’ve got ten bucks in my pocket,” he reassured her, and smiled, recalling their conversation in the weight room, when he'd helped her realize how trapped she was. “I’ll get us a cheap place and find a job. It's gonna be ok.”

She was afraid nothing would calm her. Even with Jack so loving, so gentle and close, it didn't quell the turmoil poisoning her. Even Jack knew it wasn't enough. Taking her body into his arms again, he held her, nuzzled her. Rose breathed in the lingering smell of sea salt, and basked in another scent that was so distinctly Jack’s. The line moved so slowly, they remained in their embrace for a long and warming while.

After hours and hours waiting, feet aching from standing, bodies huddling from exhaustion in the cold ocean breeze, they finally made it through the inspection and out into the sprawling city. With them, nothing but the clothes on their back, and a single bill tucked safely into Jack’s pocket.

They were both hungry, thirsty too, and struggled silently with their relatively meager amount of money. Rose’s jacket felt like it weighed a hundred pounds with the necklace in its pocket. She had yet to tell Jack. There was no use for a necklace so extravagant. Not in their situation. It was a useless piece of decadence when what they really needed was food and shelter. But it was insured. And she had no doubt Cal intended to collect. Pawning it off meant the threat of being found and enduring whatever Cal and her mother still had planned.

She doubted Cal even knew they were alive. For all he knew, she and Jack had perished along with hundreds of others. It was a horrible struggle, discard the diamond for a couple thousand dollars and risk a dealer turning them in, or keep the necklace close and locked up inside the safety of her fist.

-

By some miracle, after walking for miles, they found a decent place in a working class neighborhood. It was cheap and available even with the plethora of other survivors displaced around the city, just as homeless and poor as they were. It wasn't an awful area, and Jack appreciated the closeness to a park and a block of manufacturing plants.

“Factory for ten hours a day, save up some cash for paper and charcoal, then come home and do portraits in the park after work.”

Jack seemed perfectly content, and grinned like it was a brilliant idea as he looked out the front window of their new home—not at all put off by the labor involved and, most likely, quite used to hard work. Rose however, lamented the thought of being alone all day. Ashamed at not contributing, and still processing the fact that she needed to contribute at all. She'd never worked. She hadn't the slightest clue what was involved, except that it was dirty and tiring and didn't pay well.

“I could be a maid… I think. Or a nanny,” she voiced out loud, not even realizing it. There had to be something she could do.

The brunt of her stare, boring a hole into the wall, was focused, her head swimming. The bare rooms of their brownstone made everything feel cold. Inside, the air was only slightly warmer. And the lack of a draft quickly proved to be the house’s best feature.

“Well, you don't have to.”

Jack turned away from the window, hands in his pockets, blanket still around his shoulders like a gentleman’s cape. He watched Rose stare at the wall. Sure and even footsteps approached her, and she blinked away her worried thinking, looking up at him as he crouched down beside her. The lone couch was their only possession, left there by a previous owner, and Jack kneeled in front of it, his hands on Rose’s knee.

“But I know you could if you wanted to.” He ran his hands up and down her thigh. “Let me worry about money though, ok? We’ve got this. You don't have to work.”

The smooth, up and down of his hand along her leg, sliding over the chiffon layers of the last dress she owned, drew a gentle exhale from her lips. Serene and quiet, despite the turmoil in her mind. What was she to do if she didn't work?

Jack weaved his finger in between hers.

“Jack—”

“I'm serious. I'll make more than enough for the two of us. But look, listen...”

He paused and maneuvered himself to sit beside her, one arm coming around her shoulder to hold her. With one hand he lifted her chin to look at him, and Rose found herself getting flashbacks to when she'd almost lost him. Being lowered in a lifeboat with her mother, Jack’s handsome face smiling down at her as she went down, flares exploding in the sky behind him. Except she fled the boat, scrambling for him. She ran to him, collapsing and clutching at his arms, the both of them crying and kissing each other with desperation.

Before he could say anything, she mumbled, teary eyed. And Jack’s face dropped, letting go of her chin and instead holding her with both arms, rocking their bodies from side to side. He nuzzled his nose into her hair and kissed her, rubbing her back.

“I'm here, Rose, I'm here.” He lost all train of thought, focused entirely on her new emotional state.

Rose didn't cry like she had on the _Carpathia_ , but she whimpered, sniffling. He was so warm now. His body wrapped around her like a blanket, protecting her, and she kissed the expanse of his neck her face was buried in. The skin under his jaw was so soft, smooth like her own, but a lovely tan instead of pale. 

“I have the necklace,” she whispered to him, remembering. After she cleared her throat, she turned her head to lean into him, resting under his chin.

At first he didn't seem to understand her. His arms slowed their movements on her back, stilling while his mind raced. Then he tilted his head to try and see her face, but couldn't due to the angle.

“The necklace? Cal’s necklace? The _diamond_?” he asked with an incredulous lilt to his voice. Disbelieving, but shocked rather than angry.

She nodded, and he felt the movement of her head against his throat. The silence stretched, and his hands rubbed her back again. He took a deep breath and she heard the way he swallowed, pausing before he finally formed words again.

“I guess they are looking for us then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is going to be way more interesting I promise.


	3. An Immodest Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things have hardly improved, but an unwanted encounter complicates things further.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry about the long wait. I agonized over this for months and struggled so hard with how to go about it. A million drafts and rewrites and I’m still not totally happy with it. But hopefully it was worth the wait. I was not expecting this to get any readers.

Rose continued her new life. Her life in a dream. She was sure it was a dream. Neither a fantasy nor a nightmare, but a hazy series of events and emotions she hardly recognized were happening.

 

She didn’t know how long it would take to convince herself that yes, this was reality. But with the impending doom spelled out by the necklace in her pocket, she was forced to pull herself out of her numbness. At least temporarily. She pushed headfirst into a life she wasn’t even sure she should have. And despite trying to be grateful, she could not convince herself she deserved to be alive at all.

 

She didn’t deserve a life of luxury. She didn’t even deserve this.

 

Their new neighborhood was loud. Very loud. But in a quaint and lively way. Families surrounded them. Both homes next to their own were occupied by parents with multiple children, and Rose had the pleasure of hearing the little ones chase each other and laugh as they played outside. She watched them from the window, sighing.

 

Jack came home the first day drenched in filth. He was reasonable grumpy, but laughed anyway, positively inspiring her with how he always managed to remain so upbeat. His face brightened the second he saw her.

 

“Well that was something.” He ran a hand through his hair.

 

Rose’s spirits lifted at the sight of him, and didn’t care that he was covered in soot. All too eager to have him home, she let him kiss her, and reached a hand out when he pulled away.

 

“I’m so glad you’re back,” she whispered, so used to the empty house, being any louder felt strange.

 

Jack gave her a look. It was confusion followed by pity, and then an expression of guilt that marred his handsome features. He took her hand, lifting it to his face, and pressed his lips to the back of her palm, watching her as he did.

 

“I missed you,” he said sincerely, not taking his eyes off her.

 

It was the first time they’d been apart so long. Which should not have been an issue. But since they’d met, they hadn’t gone longer than ten hours without being in each other’s company. It was an adjustment. And it was hell.

 

“I missed you too. It gets so quiet here.”

 

Of course, ‘quiet’ was the wrong word. Lonely. That was more accurate. But she hated to see him beating himself up. Especially when he did so much for her. So much more than he should. It was all with a grin of course, because that’s how Jack was. Polite in the most charming of ways even when he was stressed. Happy and carefree but with manners like a gentleman. He was a gentleman.

 

“We should go somewhere. A show or something.”

 

He spurred her from her thoughts. It was clear why he suggested it. But it just wasn’t possible where they were now. She shook her head and tried not to scoff.

 

“Jack,” she smirked. “We can’t.”

 

“Yeah I know.”

 

He knew it too and admitted defeat, letting his face fall with a sad smile. The mirth in his voice was gone. The guilt again surfacing.

 

There was so much they wanted to do and see. So many things that lined up waiting to be picked and viewed and touched. But it was all hidden behind a seal of money. Money they didn’t have. She knew they had a future. Somewhere. Someday. Even now she had hope that there was something for them, as distant as she felt nowadays.

 

Rose curled into him, head resting on his chest. Hearing his heartbeat set her at ease. She turned her head up to kiss his jaw, tasting the salty sweat and coal, feeling just the slightest scratch of stubble on his chin.

 

“What about the market?” she suggested.

 

Jack shrugged, arms around her.

 

“Sounds like as good a date as any.”

 

Both of them relished in the sound of the others quiet chuckling. Little things like that made it worth it.

 

-

 

They went on a Saturday. Jack’s wages were just barely enough to support them, and without clothing or food, they had to ration money carefully. Food came first. And the market they went to was largely run by local farmers and immigrants—people with incomes similar to theirs.

 

Of course the place was so big there was also a section with more upscale, expensive merchandise, for those with refined tastes or a bigger wallet.

 

She’d made sure to ditch Cal’s coat before they left and hid the necklace under their bed.

 

They weaved in and out of the bustling crowds. They were mainly interested in the necessities—flour, vegetables, meat and the like—but for a laugh Rose suggested they peruse the more ritzy shops. It was a date after all. And seeing all the ridiculous trinkets she’d been handed over the years was amusing.

 

“What about that?” Jack pointed to an elegant coin purse in a shop window. They stood in front of the store while people passed behind them.

 

“As if Mother would let me carry around my own money.”

 

They both laughed, though she was most certain Jack was only laughing because she did. She chuckled without humor at the memories, but the reflection of his smile in the window warmed her.

 

“But I had a pretty blue one,” she added. “That was my favorite. I’d carry it around with me everywhere.”

 

“What happened to it?”

 

Rose shrugged.

 

“Lost along with everything else, I assume.”

 

A silence followed, and Rose caught herself staring wistfully at the pretty things behind the window. Not out of want or need, no. But out of familiarity. It was all she knew. All the money in the world couldn’t take her away from Jack, but the things it could buy could definitely comfort her.

 

Of course, that just made her feel foolish. Greedy. A safety blanket made of silk and rubies wasn’t a safety blanket at all. And she turned away from the store abruptly.

 

Jack looked at her, concerned, like he wanted to say something. She quieted him with a kiss to his cheek, and the tension in him melted away.

 

Then, from somewhere nearby, she heard a voice.

 

“Rose?”

 

They both heard it. It was a shock to her system, her name formed in a question. Distinctive, familiar, an unmistakable baritone. It sent a chill, a freezing wave of dread down her spine. With a trembling hand she grabbed Jack’s shoulder, gasping in panic.

 

Jack had one arm around her waist not a second after the voice hit his ear. The touch was firm, grounding, and Rose had her face against his ear, breathing shallow while she clutched at him.

 

“No,” she hissed to him. “How?”

 

They were in Philadelphia. A whole state away from where they all docked. Why was he here? How, in the chaotic aftermath, had he found them? Jack shushed her, looking for a way out, the source of the voice, wanting to run but knowing it would look suspicious. He avoided looking at the smartly dressed that ended his line of sight, standing just two yards away.

 

The man in question gave an indignant huff.

 

“I don't expect a warm welcome but an acknowledgement isn't much to ask is it? Don't tell me you lost your manners along with all your other worldly possessions,” the voice laughed.

 

Finally, Jack swallowed, answering for her.

 

“Hey, Cal.”

 

It was loud enough that Cal could hear it over the cacophony of the streets. Jack's face was blank as he snuck a look at him, eyeing him up.

 

“I'm surprised _you're_ alive, Dawson.” Cal‘s lip curled with abhorrence. He looked down his nose, trailing over Jack’s unimpressive form. Too skinny to offer Rose any real protection. Just a tragic side effect of being dirt poor, unfit and without the strength necessary to fight and defend.

 

“You and me both,” Jack answered with an unconvincing laugh, looking unwavering into Cal’s eyes and ignoring the hatred seething from the other. “Fate works in mysterious ways.”

 

Cal chuckled, though it lacked any mirth.

 

“Far be it from me to question fate. Though I don't see why the world thought it necessary to bless an impoverished transient like yourself with such luck, rather than the many children still on board.”

 

Usually Cal was more passive aggressive in his insults. And the blatant scorn in his taunt caused Jack to actually falter.

 

“Well, a real man makes his own luck. Right?” he gave a crooked smile and referenced their dinner conversation in an attempt to disarm him.

 

Cal blinked, but then nodded at him, seeming pleased with the way Jack quoted him. However, underneath the surface, and perhaps even breaching it, he still desired to see Jack gone. And watched him with one eyebrow raised.

 

“I didn't expect you to stay around after your little affair was over,” he said, not at all ashamed to voice his astonishment. “I figured you'd have fled the second you arrived on dry land.”

 

Rose was rigid where she stood, the April air cold and unforgiving. Coupled with Cal standing so close, it instilled a icy tendril of violence, of frigid seas and icebergs, choking her. But Cal’s toss at Jack had her steaming. Burning up. She straightened herself, casually, all slow motion and poise.

 

Jack, now recovered from Cal’s last blow—his tongue sharp as ever, strong enough to cut through bone—shot back.

 

“Never been much for running away. I'd say a real man sticks around to sort out what he can, then when all is said and done, at least he's got his integrity.”

 

Cal said nothing, and Jack added:

 

“Not everyone gets to say that.”

 

The silence stretched, and Cal regarded Jack with a surprise, staring in disbelief. Rose had one hand by her side, curling her fingers, willing away her stress.

 

She was as unreadable as a rain stained paper. Impossible to decipher. But just for a second, her eyes flickered to Jack’s, and they shared a conversation only the two of them could hear. A small, minuscule smile playing at his lips.

 

It was Cal, starved for her, and missing any and all sense of class, that made a move for her attention, shattering their inaudible back and force.

 

“Rose,” he began. “You haven’t said a word, darling.” He said the last word with mock affection.

 

“I have nothing to say,” she deadpanned, face blank.

 

“Hmm. Disappointing. Nevertheless, I’d like to take you to dinner.” He cleared his throat and dug through his coat pocket for money, then held it out and switched his focus back to Jack. “What do you say, Dawson? Would that be acceptable?”

 

“Not for all the money in the world,” he scoffed without pausing, a stark contrast to his casual demeanor from earlier.

 

Rose didn't miss how Cal’s words caught in his throat, stopping mid syllable.

 

“Well,” Cal blinked, letting out a whoosh of air. He put his money back in his jacket. “It looks like she's yours then,” he smiled at him, half sneering through the forced politeness as he talked about Rose, commenting again like she wasn't even there. “What about the both of you then? Is that agreeable?”

 

Jack’s face was the same, blank picture of calm it always was with Cal. How it was whenever he was forced into the gravity of his conversation. That simple expression, confidence, but also acceptance. Compromise on a gentle face, and never angry. Ever after Call had tried to kill him.

 

He shook his head once.

 

“Nah. I don’t think so.”

 

Cal laughed. It was a laughed that looked down on Jack, on both of them, from the tycoon’s marble pedestal. A pedestal that was crumbling at the base and breaking under the force of its owner’s weighty hubris. He ignored Jack now, scowling over at Rose instead, glancing down at her with disdain.

 

“Pitiful. I offer you a chance to make amends and you both shun them. Working in a factory. Living in slums. Dressed in rags,” he laughed. “I could give you so much. But instead you deny me. How impossibly low you’ve sunk.”

 

Unlike Jack, Rose lacked the calm he exuded so perfectly. She had neither the patience nor the desire to be polite with this man. She fixed Cal with a face of stone, hard and unmoving. Her nerves ablaze, she finally talked again.

 

“And yet,” she fired, her jaw clenched tight. “I'm still happier than I ever was with you.”

 

The mock politeness on Cal’s face faltered, and the corner of his mouth twitched. If she didn't know better, she would have thought she heard him growl. Fire burned in his eyes, and for a moment, he looked as if he was going to lash out at her.

 

But just as quickly, he smiled again, a chuckle evening out his temper and restoring his facade. Overtaking his features was a haughty look of amusement. His eyes taking in her stance.

 

“Well of course you are,” Cal grinned, and looked around at the decrepit buildings surrounding them. “You've gotten everything you deserve after all.”

 

The tension brewed between them, bubbling and boiling in her nose like a thick soup, overwhelming and impossible to ignore. Silently, while Cal and Rose’s eyes bored into each other, Jack inhaled sharply to break the quietness between them.

 

“Well this has been one hell of a treat seeing you, Cal!” He had a smile any passerby would think was genuine. “But we're all busy people here and I'll bet you've got your own pile of work that needs doing.”

 

His hand found its way to Rose’s and rubbed over the back of her palm, swirling in a slow circle.

 

Cal blinked, surprised, having not expected the other’s tone to be so friendly. Be he reeled it in, retaining his look of smug indifference, and agreed.

 

“Of course, Jack, well said.” Cal smiled, but not ready to let go just yet, lifting one brow as he made a suggestion. “If either of you do change your mind though…”

 

From an inner jacket pocket, Cal produced a piece of paper with an elegant flick of his wrist, and handed it to them. On it, his phone number was written.

 

“Do give me a call. I can certainly help with any money issues you’re having.”

 

Rose was the one who took the card, looking at it without a word. Beside her Jack was mirroring her tense posture.

 

“We’ll be in touch,” Cal said—to Rose more so than Jack—then turned on his heel, striding away.

 

Both Rose and Jack stood watching him leave. Rose thumbed over the card, memorizing the numbers for a reason she wasn’t aware of. Jack still had her other hand entwined with his. It was quiet again. The silence stretched between them, Rose deep in thought, Jack in a state of puzzled shock. Neither knew what to make of the encounter, except that Cal knew where they were.

 

And that frightened them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr

**Author's Note:**

> As always I take [commissions](http://dipperpines.com/fics)


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